


Paradise Regained

by Avelin



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: (very tentatively), Alien Character(s), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Eden PoV, Gen, Weirdness, let's call this a characterization piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21973228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avelin/pseuds/Avelin
Summary: Eden's Gate: Resurrection from the perspective of Eden.And Eden is .... a little confused.(Rynemay havebitten off more than she can chew, maybe)
Kudos: 12





	Paradise Regained

**Author's Note:**

> Written very shortly after Eden 1-4 came out, and since then... I kind of lost the idea. Seriously, I have no idea where I was going with this, or what this even is supposed to be at this moment.  
> In any case this feels like it's going nowhere fast, so might as well just post it!
> 
> Enjoy (hopefully?) some alien perspective on E1 o/

* * *

Slumber.

Fantasy. No dream in the emptiness. Stillness.

There is a presence, distant—a force bright like the nightsky and suns scattered through the void between stars, but it is not-close. Not threatening. Breath passes calm through the world beneath, the world around.

Stillness. Slumber. The presence of a dream, vague.

Then it is immediate, blazing from ‘far’ to the core in an instant.

_Threat._

The Stillness breaks.

Change.

Eden wakes up.

The dream defies blankness. White perfection passes through its prism soul: reflects, scatters, breaks into shards of a whole to meld back together. A mirror broken. Kaleidoscope.

Breath passes through its lungs. Breath, in turn, passes through Eden.

Aether wells in the core, in the limbs. A new pulse.

Heartbeat.

Threat. Heartbeat. Beat. _Beat._

Response: the pulse ignites. _Hearbeat._ Fire is kin to motivation. Motivation is kin to sin.

Sin of passion, sin of apathy. Heart. Beat. The sphere of emotion, of take and return, enough to sunder the pure heavens. Sins of sloth ( _indulgence_ ), pride ( _esteem_ ), vanity ( _stubborness_ ); they bruise colours into Eden’s core. A heart that beats in threat and defense; trade life for death for life for death for life for death for—

Alignment shifts.

Eden alters the Here to the Elsewhere. Purity of self burns clear into space all around them. Suns burst in the black, halo and sunspot. Rigidity. Stillness devours a world already shattering. The dream adapts.

Night cloaks its soul. A shield.

Shadow edges deep into the core.

Change: Elsewhere to Possibility.

Heartbeat (beat, beat, _beat)_. Pulse of aether still, erratic, still, erratic, _still_. Eden splits apart into pieces in the darkness, Eden melds back together—primary into collective.

Whole.

The Prime vanishes. Core dissolves into starlight.

Purity of self blooms, and breath passes through world. Paradise unfolds in Eden’s mind.

Paradise unfolds in—

Paradise unfol—

The dream breathes and its breath passes through Eden. It denies Eden’s vision, flares to fire and cools to ice. Vagarious aether bleeds into ink and symbols, melts into shadow. Faith shields its soul and crystals made of Light—stillness.

Stillness.

Eternity.

* * *

Eden breathes.

* * *

( _They call it the Empty: the lands devoured by the Flood of Light. For all intents, for all purposes it is void – of features, of aether, of life itself. The Flood is inimical to everything it touched, and so everything it touched is dead; monsters rose up out of its white dust. Forgiven vices, forgiven sins—hungry for the life denied to them. Unfilled even when feeding of sinners._

_There is no strife among the exonerated. It is a purity of purpose, their single drive to feed. Their monstruous stillness. Their hunger, undying. Only a speck of colour tarnishes this clarity: an island of imperfect life in a sea of Light._

_But the Empty is not eternally a blanket of perfection._

_This, Ryne has to believe with all her heart. Death cannot be the goal, when all She wants for is for life to flourish. To hear, to feel, to think._

_Eden is not the harbinger of Paradise._

_Paradise cannot exist without life to feel it—paradise was lost in Eden’s wake. This, the Oracle knows. And what was lost can be regained. What was lost **has to be** regained. Out of a broken paradise may yet be coaxed a utopia instead._

_This, She spoke—Her voice a sublimation, a catharsis, a lullaby._ Sleep _, She commanded then._

Wake, _She commands now_ )

**Author's Note:**

> PS: This wasn't a holiday story, but even so—
> 
> Happy Holidays! Hope the next year will be a good one for you :)


End file.
